It’s a really nice watch, a gift; really a reward from my wife for getting my first book published. Its expense is further justified by calling it a birthday present/Christmas present/Valentine’s present and on, and on. I may never get another gift as long as I live. Every time I make the mistake of mentioning that I want something, like a burger at a drive-thru, here comes the, “Well, we got you that watch …” Other than gift receiving, the watch is subverting other aspects of my life.

It’s powered by the sun; a really cool, environment friendly device that has lots of dials and bezel rings and date thingies. My kids can’t tell time on it because they can’t figure which of the myriad hands to look at to be able to do so. It took me a couple of hours of study in the manual, which is written in little tiny type, to figure it out. One of the hands is a nice bright orange that indicates, among other things, the charge level of the watch’s battery. This hand has intruded into my life in a way I never suspected.

The tiny typed manual says, and I quote, “Once fully charged, the battery will maintain function for six months under normal usage.” Six months on a charge! Wow! Why can’t I live at peace with that? Because it says on the same page, “The battery should be charged daily if possible.” This is an obvious conflict that I, for some reason, cannot reconcile: “six months,” “charged daily,” which is it? Guess which statement has wormed its way into my life.

I don’t think I made a conscious effort to maintain the charge in the watch, at least not at first, but because it was new, I looked at it a lot and there was the bright orange level indicator hand pointing to “LV 1” as opposed to “LV 2,” which indicates a full charge, and it got me to thinking about the second statement. I soon found myself making certain that my left wrist was exposed to sunshine while I was driving or working outside, or that the watch was aimed at the brightest light in any room, but as colder weather has pushed me more indoors, and long sleeves have covered the watch, I have become obsessed with the orange hand.

I experience mild panic when the watch goes an entire day pointing to the cursed “LV 1” dot on the dial. It makes no difference that the advertised advantage to this watch is that it will go six months without a charge, I cannot shake the ominous “charged daily” statement. Why did they even put that in there? Is it just for those who are technically paranoid? Today, I found myself taking the watch off and placing it in sunny spots around my desk as the sun played across the surface. I fear the watch is taking me over.

That may be its ultimate goal — human domination. It will be like Dave and Hal in “2001, A Space Odyssey.” “Good morning, Dave.”

“Good morning, Hal.”

“What can I do for you today, Dave?”

“Just tell me the time, Hal.”

“I can’t Dave, you haven’t charged me today.”

“But the manual says …”

“Dave…”

“Yes Hal?”

My goodness, am I this far gone?

David Wilson Atwood is a local freelance writer whose human interest columns offer a unique perspective.